I grab the eggs from the refrigerator with a little shake of my head. “Hope knows I’m gonna be late today, and I’m spending the whole weekend with her. I’ll drive you to the appointment, it’s no trouble.”
And that way, I get to hear if these new pills are working.
The leukemia ravaging my sister’s body has been kept at bay for eighteen months, but the last five have shown a marked shift in her general health. She’s fatigued, weak, and nauseous a lot of the time. I’m worried, but do my best to hide my fears.
Still, despite the harsh reality of her situation, I’m unable to quash the faint optimism I feel about the future.
There’s a new drug—a miracle drug—that for Annabelle’s disease has seen incredible results, evencuredsome sufferers completely.
“We could ask Dr. Armitage about the LUMA treatment again,” I say as Annabelle’s shoulders slump forward and she sighs.
“There’s no point, Mia, you know that’s a pipe dream for sick rich kids. We could never afford it.”
I crack the eggs into a bowl harder than I mean to. The yolk spurts out, almost spilling over the side. Annabelle’s attitude lately has been totally defeatist, as if she has already given up. I can’t even conceive losing her, and if I have to sell a kidney to pay for the treatment, I would do it in a heartbeat.
“Annie, you need to stop with this negativity,” I say, injecting as much enthusiasm into my voice as I can. “We’re gonna win a million bucks on the lottery soon, and if you don’t get on board, I’m keeping it all for myself and buying a Ferrari.”
Annabelle shakes her head with a fond smile. “You’re an idiot, Mia. But I’m just being realistic—this isn’t?—”
“Stop.”
Annabelle looks up, her eyes wide at my harsh tone. I don’t talk to her like this often, but watching her wasting away in front of me is making my chest ache.
I have to save her. I’m going to save her. Whatever it takes.
“We’re not ruling it out,” I say sternly. “If there’s a way we can do it, we will. It might save your life.”
“Shut the fuck up!”
Annabelle’s head snaps around at our father’s voice. We’re both so used to his angry mood swings that we barely flinch, but my sister instantly stops talking. I watch as her movements become exaggerated and slow, making sure she doesn’t make a sound that might anger him further.
My jaw clenches as I walk to the sink and deliberately drop the bowl in with a loud clatter. I’m not walking on eggshells all day because he has a hangover. Besides, if he gets pissed at me, he won’t scream at my sister like he did two nights ago, sending her to bed in floods of tears.
I start the scrambled eggs, making double what I normally do.
Usually, I’m upbeat compared to my sister’s quiet pessimism, but I’m struggling today. She’s been sick for a long time, but this feels different, like she’s really getting worse, and the terror I feel at losing her is all-consuming.
My dream is to get us out of this house, away from our parents, and for her to be healthy again. Nothing else matters. Nothing.
I dish up the food, handing a huge pile of eggs to Annabelle. She eyes it uncertainly but takes it without comment. We both know she won’t be able to finish it, but I have to try to get food into her.
“What time will you need to go this afternoon?” she asks, as she picks at her food like a bird.
“Around five. I’ll drop you back here first and then head out.”
“What’s the plan for the bachelorette party?” Annabelle asks with a happy smile. “Hope sounded so excited on the phone.”
“Yeah, she’s basically bouncing off the walls. The group chat went nuts this morning. I think the girls are bringing about eighty bottles of champagne.”
My nerves rise as I think about seeing Hope’s college friends again. As big groups of women go, they’ve been pretty awesome to hang out with in the past. The problem is they’re all loaded, confident, and completely different from me.
I shovel down my eggs and toast, trying to quell the rising panic at the thought of all the conversations I won’t be able to participate in this weekend. It’s just us girls in a house in the middle of nowhere, and last time I was with them, there was so much talk about men and sex that I felt totally out of place.
Hope’s the only one who knows I’m still a virgin.
With Annabelle’s illness and working three jobs, I have no time for men. Even if I did, it isn’t exactly like I could bring them home to meet the parents anyway.
My eyes skim over the house again, resolved to tidy up before I leave so Annabelle isn’t living in a pigsty the whole weekend.
